Fly
by dixiedream1n
Summary: This had been a lifelong dream. From childhood, music had been written into his soul, into his bones...


**FLY**

The crowd at the annual Texas Crisis Charity Concert was, as would be expected given the size of the Fort Worth convention center, a big one. More people in one place than the man standing backstage had ever faced in his life, and he couldn't help a small swallow, fingering the neck of his guitar with one restless hand. Neatly dressed in white shirt and black jeans and boots, well-groomed yet country-casual, in appearance he had little to worry about. Nevertheless, blue eyes were flicking from point to point, stance restless and shifting. A part of him was cheered at being here, now, preparing to be one of the several performers who had chosen to use his gift to help those who needed it most. But watching the stage crew preparing the lights and cameras that would broadcast the night's events nationwide, a big part of him wanted to flat out run.

This had been a lifelong dream. From childhood, music had been written into his soul, into his bones. Fingers picked up the guitar at a young age, almost before being able to reach around the frets. With age and self-training from books and the simple but rare talent of perfect pitch, both instrumental and vocal talent had been focused and honed. Fingers were quick, voice rich and capable of the softness of a lullaby or a playful growl, often jumping from one extreme to the other, in a wide range, at a heartbeat's notice. Skill and dreams had for years been melded into a driving force that would lead to this very moment... and in this moment, he wanted to flee.

It wasn't the first time he'd gotten cold feet before a performance. As a matter of fact, his family, particularly his youngest cousin, had often teased him relentlessly on the matter - how someone so proud and talented could, frankly, have a chronic case of stage fright.

Perhaps it was that he was also, naturally and behind a casual, friendly exterior, a very private person. Perhaps some part of him feared having his dream trod upon more than nearly anything else in the world. A few times before, at much smaller venues, he had simply knuckled down and done it. Locally, with just the town he'd grown up in to watch him, it wasn't so bad - although sometimes playing to the town you grew up in was even worse, what with high school teachers and Sunday choir leaders in the audience, not to mention the wide array of friends and rivals to impress. But so far, he'd done just fine. In fact, he'd played at a few larger events more recently, more widely public - state fairs and a couple of large bars. He'd done all right for himself, although the larger the production, the harder it was to take those first steps on-stage. Once into a performance, into a song, it was easy enough, smooth enough... professional, even if he didn't put on quite the crowd-pleasing act some other singers did. But he _was_ a born musician... and it showed in everything he did, everything he focused on and put heart and mind and soul into. This _was_ his dream, and stage fright would be damned before it locked that dream inside of him again as it had been for so many years - especially now when it could be used for good.

The man waiting in the wings took a deep breath, and another, lifting his chin and reaching for a focused sense of calm, a determined spark of defiance. This was a moment that was more than his, more than just another show. Tonight was important. Yes, important for the people of the lately hurricane-ridden Gulf Coast... but also of near-equal importance to himself, it was going to be broadcast back home. His family would be watching. Broad shoulders twitched back slightly with the thought, jaw setting then loosening, and he nodded to himself just a little. Focus...

"Mr. Duke?"

He turned, eyebrows cocked slightly in question, gaze taking in the young stagehand - a kid of seventeen or eighteen he reckoned, red-headed and a dreamer just like he had been. He could see it in the kid's eyes, and silently urged it onward... but now wasn't the time. "Yes?"

"Mr. Duke, there's somebody askin' for ya in the back hall." The teenage boy looked breathless, as though he'd been running. "I know ya said no press or nothin'," he cut off a narrowed-gazed start at a reply, "but they ain't press. Says they're family."

"Family?" That gave him a moment's pause - the only family he knew was half a nation away. "Who'd they say they were?"

"Act'ully," the redhead drew himself up more as he survived his first direct encounter with the solidly-built, intense-eyed musician - a reaction that he'd noticed more than a few times and that never failed to both amuse and bewilder him - "there's three of 'em. Says they're yer uncle and cousins, of all things." A slight hesitation then, as he noticed the flicker of surprise then recognition in the older man's blue gaze. "I wasn't sure and left 'em in the hallway to ask..."

"Yes." The response came quickly, though still tinged with caution, disbelief. Was it possible? But he was moving already with guitar still in hand, stepping around the stagehand toward the stairs leading down, to the backstage area of the building. The boy darted after, and the older man spared a "Thank you, Jimmy," using the name he'd picked up from a curled-cornered nametag. The redhead stopped briefly, then issued a large grin, thin shoulders going back.

"Thank ya, Mr. Duke! Ya want me to let ya know when the show's about to start?"

"No thank you," he called back, still moving. "I'll hear." And then he was taking the narrow steps two at a time, guarding his guitar from striking the wall and going out of tune, but moving fast. Could it be? No way... And yet, who else would claim that relationship? It was possible, but not likely... somehow, some way, it had to be.

When he rounded the corner, it was. A tall blond man and brunette woman came at him with quick steps and bright grins, and he held his instrument out of the way barely in time to capture one then the other with his free arm in hugs, laughing, greeting, startled and delighted, ruffling blond hair and stroking brown.

"What in the world are ya _doin'_ here?" he managed somehow, laughing, blue eyes shining with a warmth rarely given to another. "I thought you'd be waitin' to see it on the TV - and I was gonna send ya a tape!"

"Luke," came a fourth voice from behind, quieter than it once was, slightly brittle... but as Lukas Duke stepped sideways to look past his cousin Bo's shoulder, his uncle's dark blue eyes twinkled. Almost surprisingly at first glance, after a lifetime of health, strength, and energy, he looked small, somehow, now... tired... worn with life... but his soul was still glad. Luke stepped around his cousins to go drop to one knee beside the chair that held his lifelong guardian and teacher. A still-calloused hand lifted and rested briefly on the eldest cousin's head, then shoulder, and Jesse Duke shook his head a little as he continued. "This is a special night, Luke. You've dreamed of somethin' this big yer whole life; I know you. The least I could give was the best. I wanted to be here."

"Uncle Jesse..." the tone was soft. "Uncle Jesse, you ain't well enough to be travelin' halfway across these United States..."

The white-haired man shook his head again, voice firming. "I ain't gonna go out hidin', Luke. Ain't gonna lay down like a lamb. I wanna see my boy live his dream, and I'm gonna. If the good Lord gives me just this night an' takes me tomorrow, I'll be happy. You singin', Bo racin'... it's good." A smile broke out across the wrinkled face. "It's good."

"Jesse..." It was not quite a scold, not quite a sigh... not quite either gratefulness or worry. Finally, at a loss for words, Luke bowed his head and rested it against his adopted father's arm. Jesse's other hand slowly rose to stroke through brown curls, rubbed over a strong shoulder.

"Luke." It was soft. "My boy. I know you still get nervous at these gigs. Oh no, don't ask me how I know, I just do." Here was a chuckle, as the dark-haired man looked up, almost perplexed. "You just go out there tonight, Luke, and you sing an' play as best as you can sing an' play. An' yeah, I'm proud of ya..." A weathered hand came to gently hold under his chin, as though he were the young boy holding an old flattop again. "But I don't want ya to play for me. Play for _you_, son. Let the lights go on inside you... an' then I'll be happy."

The musician looked into those wise dark eyes, then around at his cousins. Two other sets of dark blue eyes smiled at him, and Bo moved up close to playfully ruffle a hand through his hair. "Cousin, we believe in ya. Now show us." Then, whispered in close, "Show Uncle Jesse."

Luke nodded slowly, thoughtfully... and then quirked a smile, and nodded again more firm, squeezing Daisy's hand as well before looking to their uncle again. "Well then, you'd better hurry up and get your seats. Raymond!" he stood and called out to a familiar security guard who, as always it seemed, was hovering nearby. "Get my family seats in the front row, would ya? If you have to get foldin' chairs out, I want 'em there."

The muscular, dark man nodded, lifting a hand to beckon the other Dukes after him with a small smile. Luke nodded back, then flashed his family a sudden grin as he heard the band he played with beginning to tune up, and turned to jog back toward the stage. The intense blue eyes were bright now, mind focused. There was still a tinge of the familiar nervousness in the back of his mind, but overriding it was a new sense of purpose.

Jesse Duke, body ridden with cancer and not given till the end of the year to live, daily in pain but with mind still sharp and faith still strong, had driven halfway across a continent to see his oldest child find his dream. So how could he possibly do anything but his best? He took a deep breath as he hovered behind the side curtain, eyes closing to focus... seeking a level beyond what he'd reached before... seeking his all, for tonight. Even if he never sang in public again, he would make sure tonight would be remembered for Jesse. In that moment, he found a calling... a reason.

Finally, the band members all took their places and without much ado slid into the quiet prelude of the first song, and he strapped on and plugged in his guitar, a smile caught already on his lips. When the music rose, he stepped out onto the stage... the first and least known of five different performers this night, but for Jesse's sake, for this moment he would _be_ a star. It was a new boldness in his stride tonight as he moved to take his place, one hand lifting briefly to the audience in greeting, it was a new laugh as he glanced back to nod and cue the other musicians, it was a new focus in his hands as he found well-practiced chords and notes. There was a new inner strength to his voice with the first energetic words.

"I'm gonna fly,  
No one knows where.  
I'm gonna fly,  
Soar through the air..."

As the song went on, lively and eager, the backup singers joining in, Luke's own soul filled with a sudden fierce pride. Jesse was smiling from below, nodding and tapping one foot to the rhythm... and something inside suddenly broke and opened wide. He found himself grinning before the last verse, with the words that seemed so, so suddenly fitting... and it was for a precious old man's sake. For Jesse Duke, he silently promised himself, he would always stand tall. For Jesse, he would fly.

"No more faces to hide behind;  
Just a smile  
And a dream that's mine.  
Even if I am the only one -  
I'm gonna fly!"

The music rose and fell to an ending, and the audience yelled and cheered, the spirit of the night already infectious... but it was glowing dark blue eyes that bright blue sought... and a proud grin that was answered with another. And Lukas K. Duke finally shed his reticence, threw back his head to laugh, opened his arms wide - and flew.

-

END

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**A/N**: The song is actually an old one by Amy Grant. Considering a woman originally sang it, not everyone may think it the best choice for this story, but it sounds within his range (in "real life" he really is a very impressive singer), and in truth it inspired it - every time I heard the song, I saw this scene. So, I had to include it. Hope you enjoyed! 


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